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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287584">Blue Is Her Favourite Colour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennet87/pseuds/Bennet87'>Bennet87</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wynonna Earp (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>EFA Fic Live 4, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Prompt: Blue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:35:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennet87/pseuds/Bennet87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly has often been asked what her favourite colour is. The answer changes as she grows older, but she eventually realises it is the colour blue.</p><p>And it has everything to do with Nicole Haught.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Waverly Earp &amp; Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blue Is Her Favourite Colour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One-shot submission for the EFA prompt 'Blue'.</p><p>This is very different to my usual style; I used the prompt to try something new. Hopefully you'll enjoy. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She has been asked, several times by several people, what her favourite colour is.</p><p>            At six years old, she had squeaked ‘Pink!’ because it reminded her of cotton candy and her preferred My Little Pony.</p><p>            At twelve, she had proclaimed it to be green, because it reminded her of flowers and trees and all the bountiful goodness that nature provided.</p><p>            At seventeen, she unabashedly returned to baby pink, because it reminded her of her lucky sweater, the one she always wore when taking an important test or on special dates.</p><p>            But now, at the age of twenty-six and with the wisdom of experience and a life well-lived, Waverly Earp knows without a shadow of a doubt that it is blue. That perhaps it always had been – she had just needed to be reminded of it.</p><p>***</p><p>The first time Waverly thinks about the beauty of the colour blue is whilst working at <em>Shorty’s</em>. She is alone, cleaning the bar, attempting to scrub some of the sticky spillages from the night before – the ones that will never <em>really</em> disappear.  Suddenly, the tap bursts, spraying her with the foul-tasting beverage so loved by many of Purgatory’s locals. A squeal and a sigh and she just about manages to shut it down, but not before it soaks her top all the way through.</p><p>            ‘I didn’t know <em>Shorty’s</em> had wet t-shirt competitions,’ comes an amused drawl from the entrance.</p><p>            Waverly looks up to find a woman leaning against the doorway, beige Stetson in hand, clad in the dark-blue shirt and khakis of the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department. She has never seen her before, but she smiles nevertheless. It’s what she does, as much a part of her as her brown hair and hazel eyes.</p><p>            ‘You okay?’</p><p>            Laced with the humour is a hint of concern – not anything serious, because, let’s face it, a wet t-shirt isn’t going to do any <em>lasting</em> damage (beyond her wounded pride), but Waverly appreciates it all the same.</p><p>            Confirming that, yes, she is, in fact, fine despite the embarrassing situation, Waverly offers a vague explanation for her jittery nerves. She already feels oddly at ease with the stranger, the redhead’s earnest smile and easy manners coaxing early trust from the usually-hesitant brunette. The ‘smile and wave’ persona is, after all, just that: a façade, carefully constructed over years of patient study, of working out just how to ingratiate herself into a town that had desired nothing more than to discard her along with her cursed Earp name at the tender age of six.</p><p>            ‘I’ve been meaning to introduce myself,’ the woman continues after a momentary pause. ‘I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.’</p><p>            Taking the proffered hand, Waverly is reminded of the iconic line ‘<em>Bond, James Bond’</em> and thinks that, really, Nicole is infinitely more charming than some British womanising spy. Her hand is both warm and soft, her grip firm yet gentle, and Waverly cannot help but notice how perfectly the slender fingers envelop her own. Like two matching pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.</p><p>            ‘And you are Waverly Earp. Quite a popular girl around here.’</p><p>            She laughs this off. Not because it’s not true, but because it’s the least important aspect of who she is. Nicole couldn’t possibly know that, of course. Waverly thinks that, someday, she should tell her. Perhaps even <em>show</em> her. First, they would need to become friends.</p><p>            Waverly thinks she would like that.</p><p>            A request for a cappuccino and a regretful explanation about being closed later, and Waverly is attempting to take off her sodden top without embarrassing herself further in front of her ‘someday’ friend. It’s more difficult than it looks; her arms, for all their deceptive strength, become entangled, her elbow catching the fabric at an awkward angle. Now she has to do the one thing she has been avoiding: ask the woman she has never met before for help.</p><p>            When the top is finally off, she makes a self-conscious joke to combat her own nerves about Officer Haught seeing her in her bra within five minutes of meeting. The truth is, it is somehow <em>more</em> awkward standing there in front of this gorgeous woman who makes her stomach flutter in ways it never has before, who makes her heart beat just a fraction of a second faster.</p><p>            The look she receives in return – as Nicole glances down, then gazes back up at her with humour and something just a little <em>more</em> in her caramel eyes – and the perfect white grin the redhead flashes take her breath away. It catches somewhere in the back of her throat as the other woman brazenly flirts with her, asks to have that delayed coffee in return for her much-needed assistance.</p><p>            And despite the fact that her lips want to form the word ‘Yes’, her brain screams ‘No!’. It is the latter she listens to – after all, she has a boyfriend. A somewhat serious relationship with a boy-man.</p><p>            A truer description has never been crafted…</p><p>            Waverly watches the woman leave with an unwitting smile lighting up her face, the first genuine one she has felt in a long while. The butterflies linger as she picks up the card Nicole left behind, marvelling at just how accurate (and pun-worthy, if her sister has anything to say about it) the redhead’s last name is.</p><p>            She returns to her duties with a vague notion that blue really is an intriguing colour, especially when it complements red so strikingly.</p><p>***</p><p>The second time Waverly thinks about the colour blue is in the kitchen of the homestead some months later. She is administering cream to Nicole’s injured ribs, the bruise turning an ugly shade of mingled blacks and purples and tinged a sickly yellow. It is a visual reminder of the moment Waverly had thought she might lose the person who had fast become one of the most important pieces of her small-town life, and at the hands of her oldest sister no less.</p><p>            She pushes the thought away and focuses on the feel of creamy skin beneath her gentle fingers, <em>just</em> grazing the mound of soft flesh that is still mostly hidden by the blue woolen jumper. There is nothing sensual about the situation.</p><p>            Until there is.</p><p>            Nicole innocently laments the time they have spent patching each other’s wounds over the previous weeks.</p><p>            What a waste that time has been, Waverly thinks. When there were –</p><p>            ‘ – so many other things we should be doing.’</p><p>            It takes so very little to ignite the flame between them, especially since <em>that</em> interruption in the barn not so very long ago. The tension that has been coiling around them like a taut wire, pulling them closer every day, sizzles between them.</p><p>            One look is all it needs.</p><p>            Waverly leans forwards first, her hand cupping Nicole’s neck as her lips find the redhead’s. It is as passionate as the first time, when she had finally stopped pretending that there was nothing between them, when she had finally faced her fears head-on and took the chance. Jumped off the cliff.</p><p>            Flew.</p><p>            But it is cut far too short, far too soon. The same eager hand drifts down, needing to caress the smooth skin of her girlfriend’s stomach. In the heat of the moment, she forgets the reason they’re even there in the first place. Her heart lurches when Nicole recoils, wincing at the pain that <em>she</em> has caused.</p><p>            When Nicole leaves after Doc’s interruption, Waverly contemplates two things: would they <em>ever</em> manage to carve out some time alone within this cursed building without someone or other ruining the moment?</p><p>            More importantly, she is reminded of just how much the colour blue means to her now that it has wormed its way into her heart against all odds.</p><p>***</p><p>The time that finally cements it as her absolute favourite is whilst she is hanging up a turquoise scarf over the window of her new bedroom. A part of her still feels odd annexing Willa’s old room for herself, as though the ghosts of the past still haunt the corners, hide in the closet, under the bed. But she remembers that she is a grown-ass woman who has faced her demons – both literal and metaphorical – numerous times over.</p><p>            And she has won.</p><p>            So she stretches her small arms out further, feeling the burn as she tries to reach the end of the curtain rail.</p><p>            Movement out of the corner of her eye startles her. Nicole stands there in a blue shirt, copper hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, looking as beautiful as the first day Waverly laid eyes upon her. She misses the Stetson, but she doesn’t mention that…</p><p>            In spite of Nicole’s obvious attempt to gloss over their recent argument, Waverly addresses it head-on. She is, after all, much better at facing her fears nowadays.</p><p>            But that is not what she will remember about this special afternoon.</p><p>            When Nicole hands her the forms – the ones that will help prove whether she is an Earp once and for all – she feels her mouth run dry with nervous anticipation. Was she <em>really</em> ready to know? After all these years, does she really want the truth?</p><p>            And then her girlfriend says the one thing that nobody has <em>ever</em> said to her. The one thing that, after years of abandonment and loss and pain, she never expected to hear.</p><p>            ‘As long as you want me, I will be by your side.’</p><p>            Waverly is sure her heart has swollen to twice its size, throbbing so hard in her chest that it almost hurts. But it is a wonderful sensation, the love that she sees shining in Nicole’s eyes, that she feels burning beneath her fingertips, seeping into her body and pervading every sense.</p><p>            It is time.</p><p>            After all the <em>almosts </em>and the <em>nearlys</em>, she is ready to take the next step, to truly become one with this most special woman before her, to strengthen their already-unbreakable bond.</p><p>            This time, though, it is Nicole herself who interrupts them.</p><p>            Waverly almost panics when she tells her to wait, when Nicole clutches her hands to stop her from divesting the redhead of her belt.</p><p>            But, of course, what she is really doing is making sure that Waverly wants this. That she is ready. That she is <em>sure</em>. Because that’s the sort of person Nicole is: caring, patient, tender. <em>Extraordinary.</em></p><p>            Waverly wants to say the words. She <em>really</em> does. But they stick in her throat like a lump that she can’t swallow.</p><p>            For everyone she has ever entrusted with that phrase has left her. Discarded her. Betrayed her.</p><p>            The words she actually utters don’t do justice to the overwhelming devotion and love she wants to convey, but Nicole understands nevertheless.</p><p>            As she is lifted into strong arms the way all young girls dream of being by their lover at least once in their lives, she can’t help but think that it wasn’t really a coincidence she also chose to wear blue today.</p><p>            Perhaps the stars had aligned in more ways than one…</p><p>***</p><p>When she is finally asked, for the last time, what her favourite colour is, it is the day she visits the local florist to choose flowers to match their colour scheme. Nicole leaves Waverly to make the final decision, trusting that her tastes will be impeccable, as usual. She spends a long time agonising over the multitude of options until she spies the ideal one: a dark blue campanula, beautifully-shaped, a tiny white secondary flower nestling in its centre.</p><p>            The florist tells her it symbolises unchanging love and honesty, and Waverly thinks it is absolutely perfect. She tells the woman so, and receives a knowing smile in return.</p><p>            She leaves ten minutes later, clutching a single campanula to show Nicole, knowing already that she will love and cherish it. She had insisted on blue even before that fateful afternoon when they had finally agreed to entwine their lives forever.</p><p>            Really, she thought, blue had always been her favourite colour.</p><p>            She had just needed to be reminded of it.</p>
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